Missing You
by Katt-Chan217
Summary: WARNING contains MAJOR ROTF spoiler & slash! With Optimus Prime dead, Bumblebee can't help but to take a moment to reflect upon the true emotions that he felt towards his-now deceased-leader. READ AND REVIEW PLZ! .
1. Vrichmátska’

WARNING: contains slash and MAJOR Revenge of the Fallen spoilers!!!!! **also, this takes place in the Movie-verse**

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Transformers! Hasbro does!!!! n

* * *

It was quiet inside the cockpit of the yellow Autobot, and extremely awkward ever since Sam entered his vehicle form. However, it wasn't so much as the awkwardness itself, as it was the type of awkwardness that bothered Bumblebee.

"Can somebody, please, say something?" The chimero finally voiced. Sam just shook his head.

"There's no way…" Sam—almost incoherently—mumbled. Michaela placed a hand on top of Sam's, stroking the back of it with her thumb, and locked her gaze onto her lover's eyes.

"Sam," The brunette boy shook his head again, "Sam, what happened?" Michaela ushered. After a long, awkward pause, Sam finally looked up and said,

"He's gone….Prime's gone." The screeching sound of burning rubber suddenly screeching to a halt assaulted the teens' ears. The action itself would have sent the two flying out of the vehicle, if not for the magic of seatbelts.

"WHAT!?!" the radio speakers blared at full volume, nearly blowing out the teens' eardrums. After recovering from the blast, Sam repeated,

"Prime's-"

"No…**NO!!!** NO HE'S NOT GONE!!! HE** CAN'T** **BE** GONE!!!" The little 'bot wailed. Sam inhaled deeply.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

It was probably the equivalent time to what the humans called "Three in the morning," and the little Autobot's preceptors were still active (in the sense of physical consciousness, at least). There was a cybertronian word for the feeling that swelled within Bumblebee's spark. The closest way to express the word in human text and pronunciation was _Vrichmátska'_. It meant: the mourning feeling of the loss of a faithful companion. But, to Bumblebee, Optimus Prime was far more than just a faithful companion. Bumblebee often kept this to himself—in fact Ratchet seemed to be the only one who knew of this—but the fact—the fact that the little 'bot had been denying for decades on end—was that Bumblebee, for so long, had been in love with Optimus. The pain of loosing him was more than the 'bot's spark could bear. He'd loved him. Bumblebee loved Prime with his whole being.

Bumblebee didn't know when he'd—how the humans say—fallen asleep, but when his preceptors had become active (in the sense of consciousness), the first thing he'd heard was Sam's frantic voice.

"Bumblebee!" Bumblebee quickly readied is ion cannon, the way he always did when he heard Sam call his name in that familiar frantic tone. When the boy had finally reached him, he asked, "Hey, Bee, you okay?" Bumblebee cocked his head in confusion.

"Yeah, I am fine." The 'bot let his radio speakers emit.

"Oh," Sam said as Bumblebee converted his ion cannon back into the form of what the humans called his hand, "okay. I just thought that-well I saw this oil…gas? Whatever this stuff is, and I thought that—I dunno—that you had a leak or something y'know?" Bumblebee looked down at the puddle near his feet that would have soon trailed into a stream, had it got any bigger. Bumblebee vaguely remembered silently letting small droplets of energeon trickle from his optics and down his faceplate before blacking out and—as he'd just discovered—fallen asleep that night, but he didn't think that he had dispensed nearly that large of a quantity of—what the humans referred to as—tears.

Bumblebee rubbed the back of his neck, timidly. Sam's brows furrowed into a half frown before they popped into, almost perfect, arcs.

"Oh," Sam said solemnly, "I'm really sorry Bee. Gosh, I thought I was upset." The boy rambled, "I should've known that you'd be more upset than me, you've known him longer. Shoot, he was your frigging leader!"

_He was much more to me than that._ The little Autobot thought to himself.

"Yeah, probably one of your closest friends, right?" Sam responded.

"**OH FRIK!** Did I say that out loud!?!" the 'bot's radio blared. One of the human's eyebrows rose.

"Um, yeah, but what's the big deal about that?" Bumblebee's shoulders tensed, his fingers frantically twiddled. His metallic tone, moaned anxiously.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Bee! Are you alright!?" Oh right, Sam didn't know that smoking cheek plates was the equivalent to human blushing. Come to think of it, Bumblebee had never blushed in front of the human, so he didn't know that when Bumblebee blushed, he _BLUSHED_!

Another curly-haired brunette Earth boy peeked from behind the safety of a barley-standing wall corner, in response to the sudden smoke sighting, then raised an eyebrow at the sight of the still functioning robot turning out to be the source of said smoke.

"Dude," Leo hissed to Sam across the old warehouse ruins, "I think you broke him."

"Naw," Leo nearly fell backwards when he'd realized that the transformed red 2007 New York Trax had just creeped behind him, "Bee's just blushin' cuz y'all just found out about his 'secret' crush." smirked, using air quotes to emphasize the term "secret." At that Bumblebee gave the smaller 'bot a death glare so furious, his baby blue optics nearly turned blood red.

"Wait, Bumblebee." Sam cut in before Bumblebee would become angered enough to resort to expressing said anger through violent precautions. "So, y…you liked Optimus? Like really, _really_ liked Optimus?" Bumblebee's already smoking cheek plates began to turn red from the excessive burning behind them. To hide the shame in having his heavily guarded secret revealed so easily (and by an idiot, at that), Bumblebee's face shield quickly slid itself over his face, as he curtly turned his back to the other four boys.

Bumblebee instinctively waited for the firm, but comforting, hands of his leader to gently grip his shoulders, and for the deep, but compassionate voice to softly comfort him with the most simplest, but powerful advice. But as the painful memory of Sam's calamitous news mercilessly stabbed at his spark and thrashed at the remaining parts of his body, the feeling of _Vrichmátska'_ overcame his entire being. A silent hiss sounded as tears silently gushed down the Autobot's face and over his overheated cheek plates.

"You stupid son of a monkey wrench! Look what you did!" the green 2007 new York Beat yelled slapping his twin brother upside the head, and gesturing towards the pouting bot.

"What? You were thinkin' it, too!" Mudflap retorted.

"Yeah, but I didn't go out 'n _say_ it!" Skids rejoined.

"Guys c'mon! Arguing isn't ganna get us anywhere!" Sam attempted to intervene, but the twins continued to argue incoherently. While the two bots and Sam continued bickering (with Leo all the while mindlessly gawking at the unprogressive argument that took place before his eyes; his head zipping from the two 'bots to the brunette earth boy) Mikaela surreptitiously slipped by the bickering boys.

"Hey." She said, when approaching Bumblebee. His face shield shyly lifted to reveal his face plate, to give proper eye-to-optic contact, in response. "C'mere." Mikaela spread her arms out as if to beckon him into a comforting embrace. Bumblebee knew that if he put too much emotion into one embrace with a human, such as Mikaela, he would probably crush her. But he also knew that Mikaela probably knew that risk, and was beckoning to him out of the kindness and compassion of her heart, anyway. Plus, about now, any form of comfort was doable. Bumblebee leaned forward enough so that his head was nearest the female's form. At that she stepped forward so that she was able to wrap her slim arms around maybe half of his neck, as Bumblebee placed one hand on the back side of Mikaela's form, to donate his half of the comforting embrace. As the comfort of the embrace sunk in, Bumblebee let out a silenced, pained metallic wail, but made sure to hold back the tears that threatened to flow out of his baby blue optics, so that he wouldn't drown her.

"Shh. It's okay." The brunette female cooed. "Everything'll be okay." Bumblebee knew the words not to be true, but he let the human girl comfort him in whatever way she could.

* * *

This was originally posted on my Deviantart account, but I wanted to try posting it here to see if is would detect the different usage of font that I used for Bumblebee's dialogue (I used different fonts to represent Bumblebee's switching to different radio station)....It didn't TT__TT I was really disappointed, cuz I felt like the differing fonts added more of an emotional effect on Bumblebee's dialogue. Oh well. Btw, this is only supposed to be a oneshot, but I might add another chapter that shows how Bumblebee first realizes his feelings for Optimus (all the while giving an explanation as to why Bumblebee thought that--up until Mudflap said otherwise--Ratchet seemed to be the only one to know about them), but I dunno yet.

Read and Review plz! ^_^ (but if you do review, I'd prefer that you'd be nice about it -_-|||)


	2. Recognition

Hey guys!!! In case you haven't read my profile, THANK YOU ALL SOOOOOOOO MUCH for the Author Alerts, Story Alerts, and Story Favorites!!!! To be honest, I was actually extremely surprised by getting that much within that short amount of time (same with my MxSS fan-fic, which I may end up writing another chapter for, as well). So thank you all so much!! Another thing I'd like to mention is this new thing I wanna try. Whenever I update another chapter to this fan-fic (and possibly others as well) I'm ganna try to find a quote that sorta relates to said chapter and place it between the Author comments border and the border that separates the quote from the rest of the story. That way anyone whose not interested in reading the quote can just skip it without worrying about missing any of the story or whatever. ^^; My reasoning as to why I'm placing quotes before chapters is kinda hard to explain, other than just saying "I think it'd look kinda cool." I guess it's one of those "a way to relate to the character" sort of thing. I'm not sure how exactly to explain it, but that's about the best explaition I can come up with at the moment. XD Anywho, I hope that you all enjoy **Chapter _2_** of _Missing You_! And yes, there probably _will_ be more chapters coming up. At the moment, though I need to come up with an idea for the third chapter. ^^; **ENJOY!!! 8D**

* * *

"It's so easy To think about Love, To Talk about Love, To wish for Love, but it's not always easy, to Recognize Love, Even when we hold it…in our hands."

~Jaka

* * *

This was way too strange. But, then again, he did just receive an upgrade in his systems. Maybe he's just not used to feeling those types of frequencies intercepting with his own yet, or something. But it had been at least a quarter of a Meta-Cycle since Bumblebee's last upgrade and these strange sensations have still been occasionally arousing within Bumblebee's spark. Regardless of how long it had been until Bumblebee's last upgrade, Ratchet told him that if he'd encountered anything that he considered to be unusual that he come report it to him immediately.

Bumblebee jumped at the sight of his new reflection. Even though he was well aware of his new form, he still wasn't quite used to it. He had a golden, bulky torso with his glider's window panes making up the sides of his waist, the neck-to-upper torso curve, and his lower torso-to-pelvis curve. His pelvic piece and new legs were black. Said legs were attached to two golden feet that made up two halves of his glider's nose cone with one headlight shimmering from each foot's outer most front corner. His new golden helm now framed his silver-white faceplate and glistening baby blue optics, and contained a new function. At the very top of his new lustrous helm, there lied two brand new antennae—though to Bumblebee, they looked more like horns. In any case, these new contraptions placed upon his new helm were supposed to give him additional help in detecting audio and communication frequencies. Bumblebee assumed that to be the cause of these eerie sensations, but he could never be completely sure until he talked to Ratchet about it.

After recovering from the shock of once again encountering the reflection of his new body, Bumblebee politely and almost timidly wrapped at the sliding doors in front of him.

"Enter." An occupied voice called out to him as Bumblebee's new reflection was swiped away from his sight when sliding metal doors slid open in front of him. Bumblebee obeyed the command without hesitation. Not too long after entering the med bay, Bumblebee encountered the medic in his newly upgraded red and white armor.

His new white helm—which framed his silver-grey faceplate—now bared a charcoal grey crown piece—more so for decoration, rather than function improvement, like Bumblebee's antennae. The window of his rescue vehicle took up most of his white torso piece, but as the most outward bend of his torso piece sloped down to connect to his red pelvic piece, a red Autobot insignia could be easily spotted along the downward slope. His white legs were linked to white foot pieces, rather than his old, rusty, red ones, his white arms were linked to his body with bulky Red Cross bearing shoulders, and bared red hand pieces.

"Ah," the medic looked up from his work, "Bumblebee! Your latest upgrade bodes well with you, I assume." Bumblebee shrugged before respectfully replying,

"Yeah, for the most part." The medic smiled and returned to the project he'd been working on prior to Bumblebee's unexpected arrival—which seemed to be the blueprint to, Bumblebee believed to be, Ironhide's upcoming upgrade—before speaking to the smaller mech again.

"I assume, however, that you're not here just for a pleasant 'hello' on your way to recharge." Ratchet motioned towards a seat beside his desk with his momentarily free hand. Bumblebee took the offered seat before saying,

"No, but I do enjoy talking to you." Ratchet glowered at the younger 'bot. Knowing all too well that the medic hated it when his patients beat around the bush, Bumblebee immediately complied the reasoning for his sudden visit, pointing one shiny, black finger at his chest cavity, his gaze locked onto the floor.

"I've been having these weird feelings in my spark, lately" Ratchet raised an optic ridge.

"That's strange," the medic mused, "nothing concerning your upgrade should be affecting your spark." The medic continued, more so to himself than his patient, then turned away from his work to face said patient.

"What sort of feelings are you referring to, exactly?" Bumblebee's optic ridges scrunched into a focused frown before saying,

"It's hard to describe. It just…feels funny." The medic rolled his optics.

"Yes, Bumblebee, I've presumed that much. _How_ does it feel funny?" Bumblebee's gaze lifted from the floor to the opposite wall, his gaze distant, light years away from Bumblebee's physical location. "Bumblebee?" Ratchet waved a hand in front of the smaller 'bot's optics to make sure he hadn't somehow slipped into recharge without dimming his optics, again. Without reacting to the medic's waving hand, Bumblebee replied distantly,

"Sometimes…sometimes my spark-pulse skips a beat or two. Y'know? And then it'll cause some sort of chain reaction that'll make my hands shake, and my fuel tank'll quiver, and, and…my inner systems'll start heating up a lot, and then my air vents'll be running rapidly…" Bumblebee continued on, his voice frequencies emitting and increased in speed as his list further progressed.

"Bumblebee." The medic choked. And as soon as the little golden 'bot stopped his yammering and looked up at the medic, he immediately cocked his head to the side in utter confusion. Ratchet had a hand covering his poorly hidden, amused grin, and looked as though his vocal processors would burst unless he laughed out loud at what was so slagging funny. The medic lightly chuckled—though that didn't look like it was nearly the full extent of amusement that he tried so desperately not to express—before saying,

"Whew. You were starting to sound like Blur, for a klik," the medic continued to chuckle, until it progressed into a booming laughter. Finally becoming annoyed with the medic's apparent humor, Bumblebee said in a tone so sharp it would have been menacing, if not for the naively childish pout etched onto his faceplate,

"What's so funny?!" The medic finished laughing, and whipped the leaking energeon from his optics.

"Bumblebee," the medic continued, with regained poise, "did you happen to feel these…sensations around any one particular being?" Bumblebee's optics widened in horror in a matter of Astroseconds. His gaze immediately locked to the floor, again, his optics glistening with pained shame.

"Yes." The golden mech finally murmured, almost inaudibly. The medic merely smiled softly and placed a hand on the little 'bot's shoulder.

"Don't worry, whoever that person may be, they're not putting you in any harm's way, or vise-versa."

"Then what the _slag_ is wrong with me?!" Bumblebee wailed, as he turned to look up at the medic, optics radiating with worry and sorrow in such profuse amounts it was nearly tangible. The medic's grin widened, as he patted Bumblebee on the shoulder plates.

"Nothing is the matter with you, my boy." At that, Ratchet walked over towards the area where he'd been previously working, picked up a half filled cube of energeon, and then before sipping from the cube, continued,

"You're just in love, is all."

"_WHAT!?!_" Bumblebee shrieked, his voice breaking at the one word. "Oh no, no, no, no, no, no!" Bumblebee lifted his hands to his head, clasping the sides of his new helm, shaking his head, his gaze locked to the ground, again. "That can't be it, Ratchet!" The little mech looked up to face the medic—who was currently sipping at his energeon cube—the golden 'bot's optics widened, an expression that defined horror engraved upon his faceplate. "It's definitely not-" Bumblebee continued rambling, "it can't be- I can't be _in love_ with _Optimus Prime_!!!" energeon spewed from Ratchet's mouth and almost into the younger 'bot's faceplate, had said little 'bot not ducked his head between his knee pieces, his pointer and middle fingers applying pressure in circular motions along the sides of his helm.

* * *

Yeah, this is a flashback sorta chapter. I have yet to read much of the movie prequal/sequal graphic novels, so please bear with me. ^^; Also, because I had no reference of any of the characters' pre-war protoforms, I tried my best to give descriptions of their G1 forms. Either way I had fun with this chapter! :) It's more humerous than angsty, though, but WORRY NOT!!!! Chapter four probably will be! :3 (I got inspired for a chapter four--or onward--sorta chapter, so I'm writing a little out of order right now. I'll get working on a chapter three, though ;] )


	3. For Him

I don't think this one's as good as the others are, but hopefully it'll satisfy you guys enough! ;) Enjoy!! ^-^

* * *

"I know now I don't _need_ the Keyblade. I've got a _better_ weapon….My _friends_ are my power!"

~Sora

* * *

If there was one thing that Bumblebee had to be thankful for, at this moment, it had to be the immense amount of patience that years of scouting missions helped him to develop. For if he _hadn't_ developed it, he'd probably become the closest to ever wanting to shoot a human being with his ion cannon—let alone harm one—right now. However, after actually proving _some_ use to their cause, Bumblebee's deeply buried, rising impatience with Leo began to dwindle…only for it to rise again at the fact that the three 'bots, Leo, Sam, and Mikaela had to rely on the very human that wanted to use him as his personal lab rat, two years ago. But, if Sam trusted him, then his rising anger would dwindle down into a form of mere annoyance—also, at this point, compared to the curly-haired brunette boy, Simmons was about as useful as the All Spark, itself. Luckily, Bumblebee's plethora of patience and reasoning had him confessing to himself that without Leo and Simmons, none of them would've even had a clue on how to get the Cybertronian hieroglyphics, in Sam's head, translated. (It wouldn't have killed if Bumblebee was snapped out of his reverie with an image other than Simmons in a thong greeting his optics, though.)

Bumblebee, Skids, and Mudflap were told to stay close to the Museum building, should anything go awry with their encounter with the old seeker. Simmons didn't really give any specific order as to where around the building they should remain stationary, so it was agreed amongst the three of them that it would be best if they surrounded the perimeter of the building as best as they could. Since Bumblebee was the fastest, it was decided that he patrol the third of the perimeter that included the front entrance and half of the south wall, Skids patrolled the third of the perimeter to the right of Bumblebee's third, and Mudflap patrolled the third to his third's left.

Now that there didn't seem to be any humans outside the museum building, it served as the perfect opportunity for Bumblebee to transform and comfortably lean against the south side of the building until the need for his aid was needed, but he thought better of it for two reasons. The first reason being that if trouble were to arouse he'd look a bit more conspicuous driving around the museum perimeter in his Camaro form, rather than running around it in the form of what Simmons called a "non-biological extraterrestrial," should a human wander outside the museum's building. The second reason being that if Mudflap were to cruise close to the border between the two halves of the south wall they patrolled, he didn't want to encounter the risk of the other 'bot nosing in on whatever he was "daydreamin' 'bout."

_Daydreaming_. Bumblebee mentally snorted. What a silly thing to assume from an Autobot with millions of years of scouting and patrol experience. Although, Bumblebee wouldn't deny the fact that he had let his mind wander a bit more then usual ever since Optimus' death. (Bumblebee cringed at just the mere thought of his leader's name and the word "death" worded next to each other.) Usually, when Bumblebee had something on his mind concerning his emotions towards Optimus, he'd consult with Ratchet, but, at the moment, that was obviously near impossible.

In any case, Bumblebee didn't have the time to grieve for his beloved leader. He had no time to search into his memory banks and replay images of his beautiful hero within his processor over, and over, and over. He was far too busy on his mission with the others to revel in the luster of his magnificent armor, or his perfectly shaped form—fairly thin with just the right touch of bulk. He especially hadn't the time to lose himself in the replayed image of those stunning azure optics that fathomed so deep it put the depths of where Megatron's corpse once resided to shame. Nor could he take time to esteem in Optimus' rumbling, but somehow soothing, voice. And of all things, there was absolutely no time what-so-ever to play back the memory of Optimus' first orders to him after arriving to Earth.

~0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0~

"Optimus." The yellow 'bot whimpered over a private comm. link. No reply. Bumblebee tried emitting the signal further outward and at a stronger frequency. "Optimus Prime, 'Hide, Ratchet, Jazz! Can anyone read me!?" Again, nothing. The piercing silence screeched at him through his comm. link; nobody. No! Wait! Static, he just heard static! Somebody was in range of his signal, but barely—either that, or their communication functions were malfunctioning.

"Bu--l--ee," the stranger replied through the static.

"This is Bumblebee. Do you copy?" the little 'bot rang again.

"Bu----bee, I- -opy you. This i- Optimus Prime. Do you read _me_?" Thank the stars! Bumblebee had begun to fear that he was going to have to finish the rest of his mission alone—not that he knew how to finish it to begin with.

"I read you loud and clear, sir!" Bumblebee chirped. "I think I've discovered something that could lead us to the All Spark!"

"The All Spark?! Are you certain?" Optimus' voice lit up in an excitement that Bumblebee hadn't heard for centuries.

"Most likely, sir." Bumblebee replied before continuing on about how he'd linked his communication frequencies to this planet's primitive planet-wide public communication technology—known to its inhabitants as the "world wide web"—allowing him to not only learn the inhabitants' many languages, but also leading him to the subjected vital discovery. A pair of vision-improving spectacles, with Cybertronian glyphs encrypted on its lenses, was openly displayed on a website named "EBay," by the planet's inhabitants. In addition to the scout's new discovery, he'd come in contact with the—what were these Earthen creatures called? Oh right—human that had published the image of said spectacles, and claimed ownership over them. Bumblebee believed the human's name to be Samuel James Witwicky. He wasn't yet on speaking terms with this human, but he didn't want to resort to actually speaking with it until absolutely necessary.

"Good, good." Optimus mumbled, seemingly more to himself than his soldier, before continuing, "Thank you, Bumblebee. I'll forward this information to the others." Bumblebee beamed under his mouthpiece, proud to bring hope to his leader, his best friend.

"Just following orders, sir."

"However," said friend resumed as if the scout hadn't even spoken, "if you are correct about this 'world wide web' technology being as publicly displayed as you say it is, and if it truly _was_ a Decepticon communication frequency that you had detected not too long ago, then you _must_ protect the boy at all cost. No matter where he goes, no matter how much he'll want you gone, you _mustn't_ let this Samuel James Witwicky out of your sight, and if danger arouses, protect him at all costs. Do you understand?"

The weight of Optimus' request seemed to suddenly crush the little 'bot's form. Could he do that? When the moment came, would Bumblebee really be willing to do whatever it took to protect this one adolescent human life?

It didn't matter now. This was the All Spark he was talking about, the fate of Cybertron, the last flickering beam of hope his best friend had had.

"Understood, sir. I will be a good enough guardian to this boy that will put Megatron's former position as Lord High Protector to shame!" A light chuckle rumbled through the two Autobots' private comm. link, soon followed by,

"Good luck, my friend. We will try to reach your destination as quickly as we can."

~0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0~

As time passed by on that mission two years ago, Sam became more and more of a friend to Bumblebee, rather than just a link to yet another link to a vital Cybertronian artifact. So much had changed since that day, between him and the brunette human boy. Conversations have been spawned, stunts have been pulled, bonds have been made, in due time, Sam and Bumblebee had become closer friends than Sam had ever been able to with any others of his own species—save for Mikaela.

If not for the fact that it was by one of Optimus' last orders to him, then on behalf of their present friendship, Bumblebee had to keep fighting. He had to keep fighting for Sam!

"Yo, Bumblebee!! Get yo' head outta them clouds, and get on down to the north end of the perimeter! You too, Mudflap! We gots ourselves a 'con seeker y'all!" Skids hollered through the 'bots' communication channel.

_Slag! Sam's in trouble!_ Bumblebee thought to himself as he accelerated past the south wall and whipped around the front entrance, to the East. He wasn't going to let the second most important being in his life die, yet. Not if he could help it.

* * *

In this chapter I tried to focus more on the friendship aspect of the most recent part of Bumblebee's life, in case you haven't noticed. (LOL!) Future chapters will be better than this, I promise. _


	4. Happiness

OMG, FINALLYYYYYYYYYY!!!!! *huff,huff* I've had a writers block on just one tiny part of this chapter for some time now!!! This chapter is actually the longest thing I've written on . (seriously, it's like twice as long as all the other chapters in this fan-fic.) Hope you guys enjoy! :D

* * *

"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own."

~Robert Heinlein

* * *

Two pairs of blue optics stare longingly into one another. A pair of slender, coral pink arms drape over broad, blue shoulders. Foreheads touch. A soft whisper just barely escapes one of the two mechs' vocal processors, and the other's mumble back just as softly, as the space between the two's lip components decrease. Finally, lip components touch.

As a third mech watches one mech deepen the kiss with the other, wide-opticed, the third mech drops the large pile of data pads in his hands, and sprints in the direction in which he came.

* * *

Ratchet gazed down at the sulking golden 'bot down the corridor from him. His black legs were bent fetal-style, his arms wrapped around them and hugging them closer to his chestplates, as if closer contact between his chestplates and knee joints would somehow suppress his obvious display of depression. Shoulders quivering, the golden 'bot lifted his chin off from his knee joints and buried his faceplate between them, shielding the world from his pained pretense. The 'bot's shoulders hunched and trembled so violently the medic could have just as easily mistaken the golden soldier's condition for a spaz attack. The mech walked down the dimly lit, abandoned corridor, closer to the shaking 'bot that remained huddled in the furthest concave corner of said corridor. Once within earshot of the soldier's vocal processors, the mech could detect slight traces of sniffling, but what for Ratchet hadn't the slightest clue.

"Are you alright Bumblebee?" Ratchet said softly, placing a hand on the other's shoulder. The mere touch of said action made Bumblebee gasp. As the soldier whipped his head up to face the source of the mysterious voice, Ratchet caught sight of the profuse amounts of energeon cascading down Bumblebee's faceplate. _Frag, that's a lot of energeon!_ Ratchet thought to himself.

"I'm okay." Bumblebee retracted from the medic's gaze, and returned it to his knee joints.

"Bumblebee, what's wrong." The medic ushered softly. Bumblebee retracted again, this time from the medic's touch.

"It's nothing." The golden mech blubbered.

"Well, whether you're crying or whether you've got one serious leak in your faceplate, this situation appears to be far more than 'nothing.'" Ratchet replied, now, more sternly. The 'bot's shoulders seemed to tremble ever-so-slightly more than before. "Bumblebee," The medic's tone softened again, for fear of frightening the sniffling 'bot. "I can't help you get better, if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"N-no!" Bumblebee hiccupped, "I-I can handle this b-by myself."

"What? Did somebody hurt you?" Bumblebee suddenly grew silent and—with the exception of his tensing shoulders—exceptionally still. "Bumblebee, who hurt you?" the medic ushered, growing rage icing his tone. "Was it Barricade? WHAT DID THAT CREEP DO TO YOU!?!" The younger 'bot turned to face Ratchet then cocked his head to the side.

"Barricade?" the little 'bot mused for a moment. "Actually, I haven't seen Barricade in a while."

* * *

_Finally!!!_ The air commander thought to himself. His mission was finished, reports were finally done, and his gleaming blue, red, and white armor and charcoal grey helm were polished beyond perfection! Now, Starscream could finally sit back and enjoy a nice, large, luxurious cube of-

"UUWAAAAAAAAAAAAACHOOOO!!!!!!" Suddenly the seeker felt some sort of goopy mess dribble down his back side. Soon following the mysterious goo appearance, a snorting Barricade walked by rubbing the nose of his faceplate.

"'scuse me." He said, a violent snort following his words.

A violent tremor overcame Starscream, as he silently cursed at his wings for preventing him from easily reaching behind him to wipe Barricades enersnot off his back.

* * *

"Bumblebee," Ratchet grabbed the younger 'bot by the shoulders as he turned to face the medic again, "who hurt you? What did they do to you?" the rage in his tone increased, as he continued.

"I-it wasn't intentional!" Bumblebee wailed, turning away.

"Bumblebee! Look at me, Bumblebee!" the golden 'bot reluctantly returned the medic's gaze. "You are a soldier, Bumblebee! You have to tell me who made you so upset!"

Bumblebee averted the medic's gaze, keeping it locked to the floor, and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Speak up! I ca-"

"OPTIMUS!!!!" the golden soldier cried. Bumblebee wasted no time at all in burying his faceplate back into his knee joints, after Ratchet released his grip on him.

"Optimus?" Ratchet breathed out in disbelief. "Optimus Prime? What did _he_ do to you?" A short, silent pause emanated before Bumblebee mumbled into his knees,

"Nothing…it was just…a _decision_ that he made."

"A decision? Did he demote you, or something?" the soldier shook his head.

"Did he send you on a mission that you didn't like?" the soldier's shoulders tensed as he shook his head again.

"Well then, what's the proble-"

"THAT FRAGGING SKANK!!!!" Bumblebee abruptly spat out, suddenly snapping his head up from his knee joints, his livid gaze remote from his physical location. Ratchet raised an optic ridge. Then, as if appalled by his own words, Bumblebee's hands soared for his lip components, clasping over them immediately after contact. Baby blue optics widened in horror before the golden 'bot cried,

"Oh _slag_!!! I didn't mean to say it like that!!! _Please_ don't tell Optimus I said that! Or her! _PLEASE_ don't tell _her_!!!"

"'Her?' Who's 'her?'" Ratchet asked, now extremely baffled.

"_Her_!!!" Bumblebee wailed. The medic rolled his optics.

"That doesn't help me Bumblebee."

"Th-th-that, that _femme_!!!!" the golden 'bot wailed. _That_ certainly narrowed it down.

"Yes, Bumblebee, I grasped the concept that '_her_' would probably be a _femme_." Though why Bumblebee would become irritated with any of the femmes was beyond Ratchet. Most of them cared for and babied him so much that it was a wonder that he still didn't act like a sparkling, to this day. And, they cared for him pretty fragging well, too—millions of meta-cycles ago, when he still needed to be kept under constant watch, some of the femmes even held colossal brawls over who would be his next temporary carer. The only femmes that Ratchet could think of, at the moment, who _didn't_ fawn over his immensely naïve character were Strika, Blackarachnia and…oh.

How could the medic have missed _that_? He was crying, and it somehow related to a decision that Optimus had made, which somehow had something to do with a femme.

"Bumblebee," said 'bot turned to return the medic's gaze, "you don't happen to be jealous of Elita One, and the…_attention_ she's been getting from Optimus, lately, are you?" the little golden soldier curtly averted the medic's gaze, once again.

"_No._" the golden soldier pouted, his arms crossed over his chestplates. "Sure, she fights good," it took quite some effort for Ratchet to not interrupt Bumblebee to correct his horrid grammar, "and she's pretty," the golden 'bot's shoulders slumped, "and she gets be with him just as much as I _used_ to be…maybe even a little more than that," the 'bot began to hug his knee joints closer to his chestplates, "and that there's not one astrosecond that goes by, in that time," Bumblebee sniffled, "with her," his faceplate buried itself into his knee joints, again, "when he's not more happier with her, than he'd ever been with me," he whimpered into his knee joints, before the sound of hiccupping sobs protruded the medic's audio preceptors, again. The medic took that as his cue to wrap a comforting arm around the weeping 'bot. Bumblebee, submitted into despair, let the comfort of the medic's embrace swallow him whole, wrapping his small arms around the medic's build, and burying his faceplate in the window of his emergency rescue vehicle. A long, depressing breem passed with no sound except for the silent hiccupping sobs echoing off the walls of the dark corridor. Finally, the little golden soldier barely breathed out,

"What's wrong with me? Why am I so selfish?"

"No Bumblebee," Ratchet murmured, his chin resting on top of Bumblebee's helm, "if you were truly selfish, then you'd be making an attempt to replace Elita One. You just so happen to recognize that that would be a selfish act."

"Why is this so hard for me, then? Why is it that when I see her, when I want to be with him, why is it that it feels as if it goes against my morality, like feeling all this…all this s-sadness, a-and longing, and anger, an-"

"Because," The medic interrupted the quivering 'bot, "you're letting Elita One walk right past you and win the one you love most, which feels so much like doing nothing, like giving up." Ratchet comfortingly rubbed the back of the weeping golden soldier, "It's the direct opposite of what you are…a guardian. That is why this is so difficult for you." The small 'bot nodded in agreement, before replying,

"Love _sucks_, sometimes!" The medic chuckled lightly, before his unoccupied hand began to stroke Bumblebee's helm.

"Yes, I know." Ratchet agreed. _I'll know that more than you'll ever know._ "But, Bumblebee, you love Optimus, don't you?" The golden 'bot nodded. "You love him enough that you'd do anything to make him happy, right?" the soldier nodded, again, energeon trickling down his faceplate, and staining the window of the medic's rescue vehicle. "So you know that _if_ Optimus wants to spend the rest of his life—maybe even bond—with Elita One, you have to let him, if it ensures his happiness. Do you understand?"

"Yeah" Bumblebee whimpered, "I know. It's just…hard. Slaggit-all, it's so fragging hard!" The medic comfortingly tightened his hold around the weeping 'bot.

"I know, Bumblebee. It's okay. Everything'll be okay." Ratchet murmered into the golden 'bot's helm.

* * *

Epilogue:

"Hey Ratchet?" Bumblebee started, as the two mechs continued down the corridor, towards the command center.

"Hm?"

"How do you know all this?"

"I'm sorry?"

"All this love advice you give me." The golden soldier continued, "I mean, you sound like you talk from experience, but-" Bumblebee's words ceased as a soft hiss emanated. Bumblebee whipped his head in the direction of the sound—which also happened to be in Ratchet's general direction—and soon caught sight of the light wisps of smoke emitting from the medic's cheekplates.

"I've just learned from other's experiences is all." The medic briskly replied. Other's experiences?

"But, the only ones, around here, _I've_ seen in a romantic relationship are Ironhide and Chromia." The smoke from the medic's cheekplates increased, as his shoulders tensed, and sharply avoided the soldier's gaze.

"Yes, Bumblebee, I am aware of that." To the little golden 'bot, it almost sounded as if the medic was blanketing a thick, but translucent, layer of strained calm over his irritated intonation. Bumblebee could understand the very first piece of advice from Ratchet (on how to identify his emotions towards Optimus) originating from Ironhide's and Chromia's experiences. All the medic needed was to ask either of the mechs what the sensations of the emotions in question felt like. This, however, was a situation in which more than just those two mechs had to become involved.

Also, for what reason would the medic have to blush at the fact that he'd observed others' behaviors? He was the medic, of course he was observant; there was certainly no need to be embarrassed by that factor. And what was with him trying to hide a hint of irritation in his tone? More importantly, _why_ was it in his tone to begin with?

As the endless list of rhetorical questions rattled restlessly in his processors, a certain familiarity with Ratchet's reactions suddenly clicked into his processor, in recognition.

"Oh, my cube!" Bumblebee gawked. Ratchet jumped, almost as if he'd just realized the other mech's presence, staring down at the other mech with a mixture of caution and panic churning within his optics. "Ratchet," The golden 'bot started again, "you li-hrph" the 'bot was unexpectedly silenced by a hand being clasped over his lip components.

"Uh, Bumblebee," the other mech grunted in response, "I haven't yet told anyone about your emotions towards Optimus." Bumblebee remained silent with one optic ridge raised. Where was the medic going with this? "So," The medic began again, after a breem of silence, "how about we make…a deal. I won't tell anyone of your emotions towards Optimus, if you don't speak to _anyone_ of my emotions towards Ironhide. Do we have a deal?"

"Mrhrm? Mafauermainmaromia." Bumblebee mumbled through still clasped lip components.

"What?" Ratchet asked, releasing the little 'bot of his grip.

"_Ironhide_?" he repeated, astonishment still etched onto his faceplate. "I was ganna ask if you liked Chromia."

A thunderous boom echoed so loudly off the walls of the corridor around them, that if any other 'bot were to overhear the sound, he (or she) probably would have thought it to be originating from one of Wheeljack's experiments gone wrong…again.

Billowing smoke suddenly clouded the visual preceptors of Bumblebee's optics. As said smoke cleared, Bumblebee found the source of it to, again, originate from Ratchet's cheekplates. The medic's gaze was locked to the floor as he rubbed anxiously at the cords pulsing profuse amounts of cooling fluids inclining up the back of his neck.

"Same conditions apply." The medic snapped, smaller traces of smoke still billowing from his cheekplates.

* * *

If this took place in TF: Animated, I could also kind of expect this from Prowl and Bumblebee. :) Ha, ha. (well maybe minus the little mini-epilouge--unless (Autobot) Jazz got together with a femme, at some point, in some continuity that I've yet to see.)

I think this is one of those Chapters in which, I'm extremely happy with it in the beguinning, but not so much with the end. I still kinda like it, though. (Tell me what you guys think! :D) Anywho, as you can see I'm trying to do a sorta "present then flashback, present then flashback" kinda pattern with this fan-fic, to try and make things interesting: reflecting upon BB's feelings durring the ROTF movie, and then looking back at the origins of said feelings. There will be more chapters to come! I just need to string some drabbles together, fill in some empty spaces, etc.


	5. UPDATE: 4272010

Hey you guys. I so sorry, I truly, _truly_ am! And at this point I know it looks like all I'm doing is making excuses, but…I dunno. I guess life decided to b*tch slap me across the face in order to distract me from it round-house kicking me in the gut. Almost every time I think I'm going to get free time, crap comes up. In addition time pertaining to life experiences that I wish I could have spent on _Missing You_ (including exams, getting sick, catching up on make-up work at time where I'd rather be doing something fun…like over spring break), my laptop broke down (right when I needed it most…during midterms). I've got a new one, but I've yet to transfer all my old files from my old laptop to my new one (cuz the person who I need help from to do that is procrastinating on it BIG TIME!). Hopefully, once school ends for me in the middle of June, I'll be able to transfer my old files and get crackin' on this. But even still, I wouldn't expect any updates to come up just yet. Before I upload any more chapters for this fan-fiction, I wanna see if I can edit the chapters I've already uploaded, first. (This is both due to lack of inspiration—which is fortunately not nearly as lacking as back in October through February—and due to the fact that I _really_ want to see if I can improve my writing, cuz I remember there were some areas of my writing that I thought needed improving. So, yeah.

I'm sorry guys! I really, really am. I also apologize for getting you all excited about finally seeing another chapter only for you to run into another paragraph of disappointment. (Hopefully,) I'll see you guys in June!! :D

**Oh! And one more thing that's super, SUPER important: if you want to comment on this, you must do so via personal message. ****If you comment via review, then won't let you comment on this chapter when I switch its contents with the content of the **_**real**_** Chapter 5.**


	6. Bits and Pieces

**Alright guys, I'm sure that more than half of you have probably lost interest in this fic, since I haven't posted _anything_ for a good year or so, but either way I want to thank all of you who have been so patient with me and sticking through and bearing with my bull-crud the whole way through. I also want to appoligize to everyone for _still_ not coming up with much. I'm sorry guys, but my creative juices for this fic are just not flowing (especially with school, home issues, and another fan-fic in the developement kicking my butt). The most I managed were a few drabbles, but then I figured, since you guys have been waiting for so long, something is probably better than nothing, even if it is just a bunch of broken drabbles. So, here they are, but keep in mind that these are just drabbles, just some ideas of situations that I _might_ have put in the fan-fic, if my creative juices were flowing a little better. They were very lightly edited so it still does not look the least bit presentable as a story, but, again, I figured something was better than nothing. **

**In addition, I'm really not feeling so confident about this fan-fic, myself. Mostly because (compared to my more recent fan-fics) this is pretty old. And I thought it would be kind of wierd for the reader to read my old style of writing and then suddenly get slapped in the face with my current style. I'm sorry guys, I really am! I feel so bad for not continuing this fic furthur to your guys' liking, but I just...I just can't do it. I'm SO sorry you guys. ;_;**

**Please enjoy what little I could fork up for you, anyway. =_=;**

* * *

The ground evaporated beneath him. The images before his optics flickered from somewhere beyond the North wall of the Air and Space Museum to a whirl of sky blues, oranges, and browns, before officially greeted by one of the oranges. The substance of said orange shifted much more than the firm ground surfaces he was accustomed to. Once his faceplates were unearthed from the strange grounding surface, Bumblebee performed a quick scan of it. The substance contained Quartz, Feldspar, and small traces of many other mineral fragments. _Sand_ was the more commonly used term by the humans.

[…]

"You were duely informed!" The old Blackbird obviously hadn't known—or remembered, rather—that the humans weren't built with comm. links. Otherwise, his statement might have been very well true to the humans as well as it was to the three—well, now four—Autobots.

[…]

"Okay, so how do we stop him?" Mikaela asked.

"Only a Prime can defeat The Fallen" Jetfire responded.

"Optimus Prime?" the elder seeker leaned down to Sam's optical—no wait, it was called "eye"—level.

"So, _you've_ met a _prime_?" The astonished flier asked. "You must have met a great descendant!" Jetfire continued rambling, each sylabol sounding more excited that the last. "Is he alive? Here? On _this_ planet?" the flier's optics brightened a shade or two lighter than its original shade and had widened to their fullest extent in wonder. Sam's pretense darkened depressingly.

"He sacrificed himself to save me." Even in his lowered crouching state, Jetfire's form managed to droop depressingly.

"Oh," the flier responded, his intonation mirroring the mood of his drooped form, "so he's dead."

[…]

There was a certain glint in the boy's eyes.

"So, the same energy that's ganna be used to reactivate the machine," Sam started, "could that energy somehow be used to reactivate Optimus and bring him back to life?"

Baby blue optics widened, the scout gaped behind his mouth piece. The scout turned to the flyer expectantly. The seeker mused for a few astroseconds—far too briefly for human eyes to detect—and replied,

"It was never designed for that purpose," Bumblebee's spark sank far deeper than it should have. He shouldn't have raised his expectations to such a high extent, to begin with. Optimus was dead. Even if Ratchet—or anyone—could repair the damage done to his corpse, there was no possible way to ignite his extinguished spark. "but," the old seeker continued, snapping the scout out of his reverie. "it's an energy like no other." Bumblebee's spark lifted so highly it put the human quote "the sky's the limit" to shame. Baby blue optics brightened _at least_ three shades lighter than their original color.

_Now_, the camero thought to himself, _the only problem is finding it before the 'cons do._

"So where is it?" Sam echoed the scout's thought.

"FOLLOW YOUR MIND!" the old seeker bellowed, "Your map! What you carved in the sand, it's your clue! 'When dawn alights the Dagger's tip, three kings shall reveal the doorway.' Find the doorway! GO NOW!" Jetfire ushered. "That was my mission," the old flier continued, despite his recent dismissal. "it's your mission, now!" he continued jabbing a dulled talon in Sam's direction. Go, before the Decepticons find me, and find _you_!" The old seeker finally finished his dismissal and warning.

[...]

Bumblebee stayed hidden behind the ruins that looked as if it had once been home to a small fleshling family. Watching, waiting, as he crept closer to the foe that threatened to take away another beloved friend away from him, by threatening to kill his creators—or wait, they were called "parents" on Earth, weren't they? Finally, when at a close enough distance that he could easily touch his foe, the unofficial signal was given.

"BUMBLEBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Sam hollered. Bumblebee tackled the foe, careful not to destroy Sam's parents' fragile frames while doing so, and then it happened.

All of his sorrow, all of his anger came out at once. He'd finally snapped taking any chance possible to thrash, punch, kick, and inflict any form of physical pain upon the foe that his fellow soldiers called Rampage! He struck at every opening, twisted a few joints here and there, then he felt something scratching at the back of his helm.

_Fraggit all!_ Bumblebee bitterly thought to himself as he struggled to grab hold of his new, unseen foe—though, judging from the way the leg appendages balanced themselves on his back and the shape of the body leaning against his back side, Bumblebee assumed it to be Ravage.

Once he had a firm grip on the opposite ends of Ravage's form, he yanked at the tail of the sparkling, and then slowly, painfully ripped out her inner skeleton. In his peripheral vision he could see his first foe beginning to stand up from his supine position. Before giving Rampage the chance to regain full balance, Bumblebee unceremoniously whipped Ravage's skeleton across his chestplates, spiraling him into the sand, once again, landing front side first. Like the most vicious predator, Bumblebee pounced on top of Rampage's back. Once he had a firm grip of the 'con's arms, he kicked his foe's backside once, twice. He kicked until his foe's appendages were completely dislodged from his torso. When gravity finally brought his adversary to the ground, Bumblebee turned away, leaving whatever amount of energon left in his body trickle out of his carcass.

head in his hands, he shredded said 'con's head from his very body, decapitating away one of the two sources of his life force.

[...]

The world around Bumblebee crumbled even more than it already was in a literal sense. His knees gave way beneath him. It had happened again. He'd failed his leader, again, and he'd failed his friend. Bumblebee waited for the tears to come spilling from his optics, but they never came. All the little 'bot could think over, and over, and over again was, _No…no…not again…not again_.

Chillingly the words echoed within his cold, dark processor. His spark pulse seemed to have stopped, or at least slow drastically.

Why was this happening? Was it not enough to take the life of his leader? Did Megatron have to take the life of his best friend, too?

All Bumblebee could do now was watch the human medics fail to revive Sam, watch Mikaela's crying form draped atop his lifeless form, watch Mikaela restlessly spew pleas for his revival, as if begging more would somehow bring the boy's soul back into his body, watch the crystallized remains of the Matrix of Leadership blow away, along with the remains of his hope for his beloved leader to rise again.

He'd failed his leader.

He'd failed his friends.

He'd failed his friends' loved ones.

He'd failed the Autobots.

He'd failed himself.

* * *

**Sorry for the depressing close. That wasn't where I planned on ending it, but that was the closest thing I could managed to fork up to an ending.**

**Feel free to tell me what you think (but please be merciful). Constructive criticizm is welcome, but-depending on what you're critiquing-it may not come to be any good, cuz, like I said, this stuff is old, meaning my style has undergone some developement since I wrote this stuff. Again, I'm SO UBER sorry that I can't continue to write or develope this any further! Feel free to check out my more recent fan-fics, _What Spawns From Two Black Sparks_ and _Instantiation_. They're not BBxOP, but you can check them out anyway if you want.**

**(Btw: _Final Words_ isn't new. I was going through some old stuff, when I posted that.)**

**Farewell, my faithful _Missing You_ subscribers! It was fun while it lasted!**


End file.
